


A King's Ransom

by demon_faith



Series: Love and Loyalty [2]
Category: Merlin (BBC)
Genre: Drama, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-25
Updated: 2010-05-25
Packaged: 2017-10-09 17:11:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 17,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/89734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/demon_faith/pseuds/demon_faith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Camelot is burning. A Dragon's call, a Seer's voice and discord between lovers do battle in the fight for a kingdom – but can anyone truly emerge victorious?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **Sequel to Fealty.**

  
Arthur Pendragon had faced mortal combat, monsters in sewers, mythical creatures and giant spiders. He would not be defeated by pastry.

"Give up and come to bed."

"No, it's almost done."

He prodded the edges until they stuck together and then smothered the whole thing in egg. Arthur felt Merlin's eyes on his back, could sense his smile from across the room, but he diligently marked the pie with an approximation of his family crest. It was the thing to do.

"Arthur…"

"There!"

He brought it over to show Merlin, who rolled his eyes affectionately. "Yes, very…neat. I'm sure it will do fine at the fayre. Bed now?"

Arthur smirked. Merlin really had no time for pies. To be honest, Arthur wasn't infatuated with them, but it was always fun to wind Merlin up. He placed his creation on the top shelf of the cupboard and started to wash the utensils.

"You have a round in the morning?"

"Just a sick cow and Old Mike's water trouble." Merlin joined him, carefully wiping the plates and putting them away.

"So you'll be at the fayre?"

Merlin laughed. "Yes, I'll be at the fayre." He set down the plate and snaked his arms around Arthur's waist, laying his head on his shoulder. "I'm proud of you."

Arthur tilted his head to look at him. "Oh?"

"For not entering the tourney."

Arthur snorted. "Merlin, I could run them all through with a fork."

Yet it would be strange to watch others fight without him, but he knew they couldn't draw attention to themselves that way. He was already a man who made pies – his swordwork would surely force them to leave the village, and he wasn't prepared to do that just yet.

Merlin laughed and picked up the next plate. "Yes, sire."

It was a joke between them now and Arthur ducked his head, grinning. There was a crash behind him and he whirled round. Merlin was holding his hands out, eyes vacant, the plate on the floor.

"Merlin?"

He was frozen, lips moving soundlessly, as his eyes got wider and his mouth twisted in pain. Arthur rushed forward and grasped his shoulders, but he didn't even blink.

"Merlin!"

Abruptly, he lurched forward, breathing heavily and starting to fall. Arthur took hold of him and lowered them both to the floor.

"Merlin, can you hear me?"

"Camelot's burning. We have to go."

Arthur's heart stilled. "Burning? Merlin, speak sense."

"It's burning," he whispered dully. "The people are screaming. Foreign knights everywhere. Morgana is held prisoner."

His hands tightened on Merlin's shoulders and he struggled to remain calm. "Merlin, you are no seer. How do you know?"

"The Dragon's calling me." Finally, Merlin met his eyes: they were sun gold and filling with tears. "We have to go, Arthur."

With a curt nod, Arthur pulled them both up and, when he knew Merlin could hold his own weight, he let him go and hurried to the door.

"I'll prepare the horses. We will need three days food and I will require my armour."

"On it," Merlin said, shakily, and Arthur gave him what he hoped was a reassuring smile as he ran into the night.

~

He met the Dragon's cold eyes and knew this was the end.

Everyone was shouting, baying for his death, but he would not back down. Camelot needed him to be strong. Arthur needed- Arthur...

The warm arm beneath his disappeared and he cried out in rage. If he couldn't save Arthur, it wasn't worth it. None of it was worth it.

_Merlin._

He lashed out with his magic and the whole arena rocked with the force of it, all his anger directed at that one smirking man-

_Merlin! Wake up!_

He started awake and saw fire. He scrambled backwards and almost fell out of the tree, dimly aware of Arthur swatting at the burning canopy with a pillow.

With a wave of his hand, the flames died and the canopy started to regrow. Arthur turned to him and sighed under his breath, squatting down and swiping at his head with the singed pillow.

"We need to talk about this, Merlin. Before you set the whole tree on fire."

Merlin lay down and rolled onto his side, his back to Arthur. "Nothing to talk about."

"Oh really? Well, that's just fine then. I'll run back to the village and put some bread in the oven, shall I? It's only my kingdom's destruction that's waking you in a panic. Nothing at all."

"Arthur..."

A hand gently touched his head, and another his shoulder. When Arthur spoke again, his breath was warm on Merlin's neck.

"I need to be prepared. Please."

Merlin relented and turned onto his back, staring up at the stars until the leaves obscured them again.

"It's different every time. Sometimes I see Camelot burn, or the Dragon flying. Sometimes I see your father and Morgana - never together, always...angry." His voice caught. "I never see Gaius, or Gwen. And there's...a man. I think I know him but... I can't remember. He's your age, dark hair - cruel, noble. And he...laughs at me." _He laughs while you die..._

Arthur was silent for a moment. "Do you see an army? Knights? Soldiers?"

Merlin tried to concentrate but the images were already fading from his mind. "I don't know. I'm sorry."

"It's all right," Arthur murmured. "Get some rest."

Merlin didn't sleep again that night.

~

For the first time since his departure, Uther was glad Arthur was away from Camelot.

He could fancy that, with his son at the fore, the knights might have triumphed over the invaders, but that was a pretty lie. No doubt he would be bleeding on the castle steps, or confined to his rooms, fuming and plotting. There would be no victory.

Uther did not want to think about the sorcerer.

Now, the king occupied the prince's bedrooms, pacing back and forth as he waited for that idiot boy to grace him with his presence. What an ignoble defeat – to lose to such a pathetic man, one who had already bested him and had now fooled him a second time.

Morgana was safe, that much he knew, and the invaders were not stupid enough to execute the court physician – or so he kept telling himself. He could not lose his oldest friend as well as his son; the pain would be too much to bear.

He was glad Arthur was away, but he wished he could send him a message. Uther was proud, but there were still allies he could call upon, ones who did not wish to see this upstart take control of such a fortress as Camelot. Better the devil you know.

The large door swung open and he stopped his pacing and waited. And there was the boy, grinning inanely and munching on an apple. "Your highness," he said mockingly, bowing low and throwing the apple core on the bed.

"You cannot think you will succeed here," Uther said coldly, meeting the boy's eyes with disdain.

"Oh, I think I already have." He wandered around, picking up some of the china and opening a couple of drawers. "The city is guarded by my men, the throne is where I sit, and your little prince is off on his...diplomatic mission. And if he even dared to approach my city, I would shoot him from the ramparts."

Uther reined in his temper, forcing his face into a cold mask. "He will not come alone. He will bring an army."

The boy laughed. "He will not come at all! He's afraid – he always has been. I am his superior in every way."

Taking his seat casually, Uther chuckled. "You are no match for him, little Caradoc. This is bluster to impress your ailing father, nothing more. Mark me well – he will see you die for this."

Caradoc rolled his eyes. "Oh yes, of course he will. And Morgana will never marry me, I suppose? And you really do keep a _Dragon_ under the castle? Please."

Withdrawing another apple from his pocket, he bit into it and strolled out of the room, leaving an irate king in his wake.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sequel to [Fealty](http://demon-faith.livejournal.com/180768.html). Previous parts [here](http://demon-faith.livejournal.com/201316.html)

  
They were far beyond Camelot's walls when Arthur stopped, tied up the horses, and started walking in a completely different direction. Merlin stared after him, frowning.

"I'm fairly certain the castle's that way."

"Shortcut," was the reply he received, so he sighed under his breath and stumbled after his prince. Arthur had been strangely quiet for the last two days, drawing in the mud with a stick whenever they stopped and even telling Merlin to shut up on one occasion. He was restless and irritable, and Merlin's nightmares, or visions, or whatever they were, certainly weren't helping.

Abruptly, he found himself pinned against a tree with an armful of Arthur, being kissed to within an inch of his life. Arthur pulled away, a pretty blush spreading up his cheeks as he straightened his armour. "I do love you."

Merlin blanched. "Are we going to die?"

Arthur punched him in the arm and rolled his eyes. "No, idiot. I just...uh..." He waved his hand a little. "You know."

"Articulate as always," Merlin said with a grin, sure his face was glowing as they resumed their journey towards this mystical shortcut.

After a few minutes, Arthur ran down a bank of earth and started pulling aside branches and ivy to reveal a grate. Very interesting.

"A secret passage? The castle has secret passages and you never told me about them?"

Arthur looked at him. "It's a castle, Merlin – of course it has secret passages."

He continued to clear away the foliage and started tugging at the rails. Merlin watched in amusement for a minute before Arthur turned and glared. "Well?"

Merlin smiled and raised a hand, the grate coming away easily as Arthur stumbled backwards. Another glare, but this one concealed a faint smile of pride and Merlin held on to the nuance.

Once they were safely inside, they replaced the grating together and headed down the passageway. "Where does this come out?"

"The cells," Arthur said distractedly. There was the odd flicker of light in the distance and Arthur pulled him back against the wall, watching. Merlin waited until the lights had stopped flickering, before turning to Arthur.

"So, how are we going to get past them?"

Arthur was already taking off his armour. "We will pretend to be servants and gain access to the castle as peasants. They don't know what we look like – it should be easy."

"Unless they've put your portrait up on a Wanted poster," Merlin joked and received another glare. "Right, won't recognise us. Got it."

Arthur swapped his battle tunic for his village-spun cloth one, then hesitated. "Maybe you should stay here."

"You are not going into that castle alone," Merlin said firmly.

"I could knock you out," Arthur said thoughtfully.

"Just try it."

Another quick kiss in the dark and then were off again, moving forward without their heavy travel packs and carrying a fair amount of concealed weaponry. Well, Arthur had daggers and throwing knives – Merlin was a concealed weapon.

As they entered the dungeon proper, Arthur nudged him and motioned slightly for them to keep walking. He was almost getting used to these hand signals – now if he could only work out why-

"Oi, you! Stop right there!" Ah.

They turned together and faced the guard, who was squinting at them. "A dark-haired boy with a blond one. Well well well."

Merlin's mouth went dry. Would that be enough? Would that stupid little description be their undoing?

Another man stepped forward and picked up Arthur's hands; he thought Arthur would leap into attack mode right then, but he kept absolutely still, waiting. "Nah, these aren't royal hands. Look like a washerwoman's." He dropped them in disgust. "On your way."

They hurried up the stone steps, and Merlin's heart soared. They had done it. They were in.

"I will never complain about washing your tunic again," Arthur muttered and Merlin grinned.

"Why?" he said innocently. "Having your tongue cut out?"

A playful punch, and then they emerged into the castle.

~

The throne felt alien. He ran his hands over the wooden arm again and yet still it would not comfort him. The servants moved around in silence, never speaking a word, always watching.

Camelot was biding its time.

His brother had promised fresh recruits to strengthen their garrison, but they were still two weeks march away. A fast rider had delivered a note from his father, but he recognised the hand of Angharad and his father's signature was barely legible on the paper.

Soon, Geraint would be king of the Northlands and he would no longer lend his brother aid. All hope of royal favour would vanish in the blink of an eye – why did he set out with his father so ill? What made him think this would change anything?

Yet he saw the life lustre return to his men's eyes, saw the respect for him mount. Was that not worth it? If he could just see the great Arthur defeated, it would all be so very sweet.

And so he would sit and wait with Camelot, wait for the prince to raise his little army and attack. Then they would bow and bring tribute, and he could forget that his father's love was beyond him.

~

"We need more supplies."

Arthur's stomach was feeling the pinch of three days' ride on stale bread. They really needed a clutch of chickens.

"Okay," Merlin nodded. "I'll try to gather information."

Arthur snorted. "You? You're about as stealthy as a wild boar. Where are you going?"

Merlin looked slightly indignant. "To find Gaius."

With a soft sigh, Arthur placed a hand on his arm. "There will be time to see...family later, Merlin."

"He knows this castle," he said stubbornly. "He'll know what's going on."

"He's also the court physician. The invaders will be using him to tend their soldiers, especially if it was a well-fought battle." Arthur was refusing to believe anything else. The thought of his knights _surrendering_...

"I need to see him, Arthur." The pleading eyes were definitely cheating but Arthur couldn't deny Merlin anything.

"Be careful," he warned, wondering if Merlin even remembered he was a prince at all, that he knew the castle better than anyone and could find information from the very walls. Still, there was time for that too and he could forgive this lapse – there was some room for negotiation in a two-man army.

"I will," he promised, solemnly, reaching to squeeze his hand before heading towards Gaius' quarters. Arthur watched him go with regret, beginning to wonder why he had brought him at all. This would be dangerous and Merlin was no knight.

Though he couldn't imagine leaving him, couldn't imagine Merlin allowing himself to be left. They were in this together, whatever this was. They were a team.

Arthur's stomach rumbled, interrupting his thoughts, and he made for the kitchens.

~

Gaius returned from his rounds to find one of Caradoc's knights waiting. "Oh, hello."

"Arm's aching again – take care of it."

Forcing a smile, Gaius gestured to the treatment table and started to prepare some herbs. "There may be an infection brewing. I will use saltwater-"

"Just get on with it."

Gaius nodded curtly and pounded the herbs into a paste, his eyes dancing over the table for a weapon. He knew such an action would be foolish, but it gave him pleasure to entertain the possibility.

He reached for the salt and it tipped towards him, spilling its contents all over table. Gaius clutched at the bottle and, before his eyes, the salt formed words: I'm here.

In an instant, they were gone, but Gaius knew what the words meant, knew of only one idiot who would be focussing his attention of sending messages with salt at a time like this.

"How clumsy of me," he said aloud, adding salt to some well water and started to unwind the bandage on the knight's arm. They would need information, if they were to gain power within the castle – they were relying on him.

"Has it been a month now? I lose track."

The knight shot him a withering look. "Three weeks. Blade was blunt – that's what you get for fighting lazy curs. Waste of my time."

"Indeed, my lord," Gaius said neutrally, hoping that Arthur was not also within hearing distance. He did not need to know the state of his knights just yet.

"A couple of them gave us a fight, but the rest..." The knight spat on the floor. "Killed fifteen at the gate, ten more in the courtyard. The rest just handed over their swords – pathetic."

"I believe there were superior numbers on your side, my lord. The garrison were greatly diminished from Lord Caradoc's first assault." Gaius washed the wound out with saltwater, dabbing it dry.

The knight grunted and winced. "The Knights of Camelot should take anyone and anything that comes within a mile of the walls. We killed four of them – they should be singing songs about us! Not throwing rocks like children."

Gaius hid his smile as he reached for the mortar. "You are still having problems in the tavern distract? I am sorry to hear that."

"And those bloody sorcerers in the streets every night – turned my mate into a cat! A bloody cat!"

There was a clatter from the cupboards behind him. Gaius closed his eyes. He'd only been back five minutes – could he not keep out of trouble for even that long?

The knight had already drawn his sword. "Show yourself!"

The cupboard door shifted slightly and Gaius tensed, preparing to duck. A purple sleeve appeared, and a pale slender hand emerged to grab hold of the handle. And then there was a beautiful young woman standing in his workroom, blushing and holding a hand to her mouth.

Gaius felt a hand hit his shoulder and the knight roared with laughter. "You're a dog, physician! I'll leave you to 'tend your patients', eh?"

Still laughing, the knight headed for the door, slamming it shut behind him. Gaius smiled and shook his head. "I see you still know only the one concealment spell."

Merlin smiled sheepishly "Oops."

Gaius hugged the boy and ruffled his hair. "It is good to see you again. Is he-?"

"Yeah, he's here," Merlin said, that particular light entering his eyes and causing Gaius to smile. "I can't believe Caradoc is behind this!"

Gaius nodded. "We were just as surprised as you. And that, I believe, was the problem."

Merlin frowned. "How bad is it?"

"Terrible. Of the soldiers in the garrison, only seven remain. The eleven knights are also imprisoned, and heavily guarded. Caradoc commands sixteen knights and around fifty ordinary soldiers. He must have emptied all the guardhouses of the Northlands to raise such a force."

"Arthur will know what to do," Merlin said loyally. "Did he say...sorcerers?"

Gaius nodded seriously. "They roam the streets in packs, setting fires and casting spells. They are wild, Merlin – they see this as an opportunity, now that Uther is deposed. And there are small riots in the tavern district almost every night. I believe Caradoc's control of the people is slipping."

Merlin smiled. "We can defeat him."

"It won't be easy," Gaius warned. "He is as experienced as Arthur, and knows his knights well. A direct challenge may not aid you."

The boy's face fell a little but he quickly recovered. "Well, Arthur has me."

Gaius smiled. "Indeed. Now, hurry off before someone sees you!"

Merlin frowned. "You're not coming?"

"I think my absence would be noticed. Go!"

With a look of regret, his foolish boy fled for the door and disappeared into the corridor. Gaius sighed – he was glad the boys had returned, but all the Knights of Camelot had failed to keep out the devil at the gate.

They would need every scrap of Destiny on their side to win this war.

~

Arthur had hidden two sacks of food in the salting cellar, rarely used since the advent of peacetime in the kingdom. The kitchen staff had accepted the young man in the cap, especially when he offered to carry boxes and sweep up. No one ever questioned the useful.

He never knew servants could gossip like this. They were worse than the noblewoman at court, but he was grateful for their attentive ears and overactive imaginations.

"Our John says Lady Morgana hasn't left her room. Refuses to come out or speak to our lordship. He's taking up her meals for her, see."

"His lordship thinks he's in with a chance there. Everyone knows her ladyship only has eyes for Prince Arthur."

He smiled as he cleaned away the rotten vegetables. Morgana indeed.

"Don't be ridiculous, Glenys! Everyone knows he ran off with that serving boy of his. There isn't any diplomatic mission in Garthmadrun."

Arthur froze, before mechanically stacking the crates, his ears burning.

"Nah! He's gone after that knight. You know - the one that wasn't really a knight. My Jamie says he let him out of the cells personal!"

"The prince's chasing after that maidservant of her ladyship, isn't he? Has anyone seen her?"

Arthur held his breath and looked up, but everyone was shaking their heads and he looked away. Gwen was missing then. He'd have to tell Merlin.

"Here, boy – take these to the feast. Our lordship's drinking the cellars dry."

Two flagons of wine were thrust into his hands and he headed out of the kitchen towards the banqueting hall. Now he would get a chance to see this mysterious 'lordship', and probably the knights who were with him. He tried to ignore the voice in his head that sounded suspiciously like Morgana, and that was telling him that he should be lying low and not walking straight into the dragon's den.

Arthur set the flagons on the serving table and stood behind a pillar, surveying the room. The top table was full – eight knights, all in high spirits – and then a second table with another nine. And who was enjoying the position of honour at the high table? Who had orchestrated this invasion?

The man turned towards him and Arthur met his gaze – Caradoc! The man who had almost been the end of both himself, and Merlin! He was responsible!

Arthur saw the flicker of recognition in the man's eyes and he hurriedly left the hall, retreating back towards the kitchen. Let him see. Let him know that his days were numbered.

The prince had returned to claim his throne.


	3. A King's Ransom (3/12)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Camelot is burning. A Dragon's call, a Seer's voice and discord between lovers do battle in the fight for a kingdom – but can anyone truly emerge victorious?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sequel to [Fealty](http://demon-faith.livejournal.com/180768.html). Previous parts [here](http://demon-faith.livejournal.com/201316.html)

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Current mood:**

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tired  
  
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**Entry tags:**

| 

  
[fic](http://demon-faith.livejournal.com/tag/fic), [love and loyalty](http://demon-faith.livejournal.com/tag/love%20and%20loyalty), [merlin](http://demon-faith.livejournal.com/tag/merlin)  
  
  
TITLE: A King's Ransom (3/12)  
AUTHOR: Demon Faith  
SERIES: Love and Loyalty  
CATEGORY: Hurt/Comfort, Drama  
PAIRING: Merlin/Arthur  
SPOILERS: For Season 1 (AU after 1x5: Lancelot)  
RATING: PG-13  
WORDS: 1,168  
SUMMARY: Camelot is burning. A Dragon's call, a Seer's voice and discord between lovers do battle in the fight for a kingdom – but can anyone truly emerge victorious?  
DISCLAIMER: I own not the boys, nor the show. Thankfully, they're doing just fine.  
NOTES: Sequel to [Fealty](http://demon-faith.livejournal.com/180768.html). Previous parts [here](http://demon-faith.livejournal.com/201316.html)  
I really wasn't going to do this, but this savage little bunny latched on to my leg and wouldn't let go.  
This is dedicated to The Coven and the Dragon. He knows why.

Every morning, she stared out of the window, watching for twin silhouettes against the dawn. She had heard the monster call them home – what were they waiting for? Why did they stay away?

She missed Gwen. She missed company. The servants gave her looks of pity as they brought her meals and Caradoc's letters; she ate only bread and threw the letters in the fire, unopened. Perhaps she wasn't as brave as Arthur, but she could offer this protest at least.

She had thought herself stronger than this. As the swords clashed in the hall, she had remained in her rooms, huddled on the bed with Gwen – the last remaining heir of Camelot.

Arthur had freedom and she had suffocation. Uther would not let her step beyond the walls, doubling her escort and entertaining no suitors. She was the only one he could protect now and he would not let her out of his sight.

There was a knock at the door and she turned her back carefully, sitting up straighter. She was Lady Morgana – graceful, aloof, and strong. If only in these moments.

It opened with a deep _creak_ and then closed suddenly. She caught half a reflection in the window – a servant boy in a peaked cap, a dusty cloak.

"Yes?" she said haughtily.

"My lady."

Morgana turned, clapping a hand to her mouth, before rushing across the room and enveloping him in a hug. "Where have you been?" She hit his shoulder. "You took your time, Arthur!"

"Ow! Morgana!" He rubbed his shoulder, but his eyes were dancing and he looked...at peace. She envied him.

She tried to hold back her tears but he was here, whole and happy. Arthur winced and passed her a handkerchief. "Morgana..."

Morgana blew her nose and then hit him again. "Where's Merlin?"

"In the salt cellar." She raised an eyebrow. "It was the best we could do on short notice. Don't look at me like that!"

"I'm sure Merlin's thrilled with the accommodation."

Arthur grinned. "He was sneezing all night."

Morgana laughed. "Arthur Pendragon, you are a cruel man."

He bowed theatrically. "And that's why they call me the ultimate killing machine."

"Arthur, no one calls you that."

"Well, they should."

Morgana flung her arms around his neck again and drew him close. "I missed you, idiot."

Arthur kissed her cheek. "Yeah, you too. Now-" he hesitated, looking a little guilty. "You know that I can't release you."

"It would make him suspicious. I know."

Arthur stepped back a little. "If there were a way-"

Morgana smiled her best smile, her strong smile – this was for Camelot. "Just tell me what to do."

~

"We didn't really talk last night."

Merlin was watching Arthur's face – he was the picture of concentration, muscles taut as he pressed them both back against the wall.

"Merlin, are we really-"

"What? No light conversation during the midnight excursion?"

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Or we could get caught. Yes, let's do that."

Merlin grinned. "I know something."

"I sincerely doubt that." Arthur motioned him forward and they crossed the corridor before Arthur placed a hand on his arm and resumed his surveillance. Now that Merlin had experienced that focussed attention first hand, it was even harder to look away. He was just considering kissing him when they were moving again, heading for their first staircase. So much for romance.

"No, really. Gaius told me something interesting."

Arthur paused and turned towards him. "If I let you say this one thing, will you be quiet?"

"Sorcerer's Honour."

More rolled eyes and Arthur pulled him down to a crouch, concealing them both behind a convenient statue. This would be a very good place for a kiss.

"Well?"

Merlin sighed. "There are gangs of sorcerers roaming through Camelot."

Arthur gripped his shoulder – his eyes were wild, his face tense in a dark and terrible way. "Rogue sorcerers?"

"We don't know that," Merlin said defiantly. "Just because they're oppressed-"

"Oppressed? Merlin, there were very good reasons for my father's decisions."

Merlin's jaw dropped. "I can't believe you're defending him! After everything-"

"Judge the person, not the magic – I know, Merlin. But just because you're...you, doesn't mean that every sorcerer is on our side."

Suddenly, they were moving again, down the stairs and into the dungeon. And the dice had remained on the table. Arthur let them straight to the gate, closing it behind them and making sure they weren't being followed. Merlin was beginning to wonder how he'd ever made it down here without discovery if Arthur thought it required this level of stealth.

"What we know is that they're against Caradoc! We should form an alliance."

Arthur gave him a look of horror. "An alliance with a gang of sorcerers? We know nothing about them!"

Merlin stuck out his chin. "We know they're like me!"

Arthur sighed – it carried a world-weary edge that Merlin had almost forgotten; the dreams of Garthmadrun seemed very far away in that moment. "No one's like you, Merlin."

He faced down his prince, putting his hands on his shoulders. "There are good sorcerers, Arthur."

Slowly, Arthur backed away and lit his torch; Merlin felt he had been cast aside, as if his opinions ceased to matter now that they were back in Camelot. That Arthur was that untouchable prince again, the one from the first day they'd met – an arrogant prat with no time for a loudmouth servant who wanted to spoil his fun.

"Tell me about the tavern revolts."

"Of course – drunks make far better allies."

"Merlin."

Falling into step beside Arthur, he started down the stairs, keeping his eyes straight ahead. "There have been two major riots, both starting at 'The Lady'. The rioters were armed with pitchforks and torches and made it as far as the gates. They fled when the knights rode out."

"'The Lady'? Is that Morgana's tavern?"

"It has her face above the door."

Merlin stole a glance at Arthur's face – he looked thoughtful, and Merlin struggled to hold on to his anger. It was difficult to concentrate when Arthur looked like that.

"I've been to that inn. It's quiet, mostly grandfathers and herbalists. It's a respectable part of the town – why would a riot start there?"

"Perhaps it's been taken over," Merlin offered but Arthur shook his head, his steps quickening.

"No, it was planned. This was an organised riot – and they're sending us a message."

Merlin stared blankly. "A message?"

Arthur grinned. "Morgana's tavern." Merlin just stared; Arthur waved the torch. "Guinevere!"

"Gwen? You think Gwen did this?"

"It makes sense," Arthur said passionately. "We don't know where she is, but she's not in the cells – you checked every one?"

Merlin bristled. "Of course I checked!"

"So she must be free. And if she's free, she's working."

Merlin felt a surge of pride at the thought of Gwen organising revolts. "So, we need to find her."

"Tomorrow," Arthur nodded and took the final steps into the cavern.

"Greetings, young warlock. You have been expected."

_   
**FIC: A King's Ransom (3/12) - Merlin, Merlin/Arthur, PG-13**   
_


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Camelot is burning. A Dragon's call, a Seer's voice and discord between lovers do battle in the fight for a kingdom – but can anyone truly emerge victorious?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sequel to [Fealty](http://demon-faith.livejournal.com/180768.html). Previous parts [here](http://demon-faith.livejournal.com/201316.html)

  
So far, all he'd managed to decipher from the creature's nonsensical ramblings was that the assault had come in two waves – the first disguised as a diplomatic envoy from Mercia, and the second taking advantage of the initial slaughter. Four of his knights were dead – and he could not even begin to grieve. They had work to do.

"But we can defeat him?" Merlin asked earnestly. How was he so comfortable with this mystical brute? Arthur was wishing he had his sword to hand.

The Dragon smiled. "That is for you to decide. The scales are balanced – when the die is cast, you will be tested."

"And what does that mean?" Arthur said impatiently. The Dragon spared him a glance and then returned his gaze to Merlin.

"The invader knows you are here." Merlin turned to Arthur, shocked, and Arthur had to look away. "But then our young prince already knew that."

"Arthur?"

He waved his hand, trying to brush it aside. "He saw me last night, at the banquet."

Merlin stepped in front of him, refusing to be ignored. "You were seen?"

Arthur snapped. "I had to know! I cannot hide in a salt cellar for a month, waiting for him to make a mistake!"

"You will not have to wait."

Tearing his eyes away from Merlin, Arthur faced the Dragon. "What do you know?"

The creature regarded him impassively. "The future of the Northlands is uncertain. The king is dying, and the eldest son cannot carry the weight alone. Their armies are in Camelot and their enemies are within their own walls."

"The Northlands will fall," Arthur said grimly. Yet another unstable nation on their borders.

"And the invader and his kin will seek refuge in Camelot."

Arthur's mind reeled at the implications. Camelot would no longer be an outpost conquest – it would be the centre of their kingdom, a heavily-defended fortress owned by paranoid royalty. They were running out of time.

"Arthur?" Merlin didn't understand and Arthur found himself reluctant to explain.

"It's not good, Merlin."Arthur looked up at the Dragon. "He will receive news of this?"

"If it is not already at his door."

"Then, we need the sorcerers."

Arthur closed his eyes. "Not now, Merlin."

"The deed cannot be completed by sword alone. Only when the forces of magic and metal combine will Camelot be whole again. It is written."

"Well, of course you'd take his side! You're a Dragon!"

The Dragon's eyes flashed. "Without magic, you would be dead, Pendragon."

"Without magic, I wouldn't have been in danger! Magic killed my mother!"

"Arthur, please-"

Arthur shook off Merlin's placating arm. "Do you deny it?"

"Your Destiny lies together. Will you deny that?"

"Merlin is different," he said slowly. The Dragon laughed.

"There is magic in every fibre of his being! Do not mistake the actions of one sorcerer for another – to know the heart of one sorcerer is to know but one man."

His father's words, twisted in the mouth of this creature. His father who was even now imprisoned. "I will not enter into an alliance with magic."

"Then you will die. And Camelot will fall."

Arthur looked to Merlin, but he wouldn't meet his eyes. "You cannot know that!"

The Dragon's voice filled the cavern. "It is written!"

There was nothing else to say.

~

With one last look at his slumbering prince, Merlin left the cellar.

It had been a difficult decision, one he had wrestled with for most of the night, but he believed the Dragon – they had to do this together. They were two sides of the same coin. They were magic and metal.

And that's why he had to find the sorcerers.

It hurt him that Arthur still didn't understand. Magic was in his blood, magic could be a force for good, and they needed magic users as well as soldiers. Why couldn't Arthur see that?

Dressed in an old cloak, he carried a basket of linen out into the rain. The guards let him pass without question and he headed towards the tavern district, hoping to find talk of the sorcerers and details of their whereabouts. Then, he could track them down and observe them for a while before reporting back to Arthur. It sounded so easy.

Until he met them in the street.

There were seven, young men and women of his age, all dressed in black robes. They were lit by fires that rested on rooftops and on the cobbles, never flickering in the storm. As one, they faced him and he carefully set down the basket.

"A visitor from the castle." The woman spoke with power and authority. "Are you from Uther or Caradoc?"

Merlin pushed back his hood, exposing his head to the rainfall. "I am with Arthur."

A man stepped forward and smiled, though it contained no mirth. "Emrys. We wondered when you would return."

At the sound of the name, he felt a coldness pierce him. "What did you call me?"

There was laughter. "Emrys, of Druid lore. The one who will leave Arthur to die."

Merlin shook his head. "No, that's not true!"

The first woman stepped towards him; the others flanked her, their hands glowing. "He is like his father, Emrys. He will never embrace the Old Ways. Join us, and we will bring you to greatness."

"He's not like that," Merlin said, passion in his voice. "He embraces magic." Though, was that even true? He embraced Merlin, but he had made his view of sorcerers abundantly clear. Untrustworthy. Dangerous.

"We do not want a king! We will rule Camelot, and we will restore magic to its rightful place."

Merlin's heart sank. This was exactly as Arthur had said. "You won't help me?"

She smiled. "You have abandoned your kind for this boy who would kill us. And it seems you will not return. What a pity."

The glow intensified and Merlin crossed his hands, his mind quickly running through defensive spells. "Let me pass."

"And return the weapon to the hand of the killer? Don't be silly, boy. It is written!"

_It is written._ Merlin felt sick with betrayal – how could the Dragon lead him here? No, this was all his own doing. He thought of Arthur, asleep in the cellar, and wished he was standing at his side, facing down these dark sorcerers and their threatened chaos.

He wasn't prepared for the onslaught, the wills of seven sorcerers battering against him as he attempted to shield himself. He heard someone scream as his left arm burst into flames and his right leg bent away from him, bruises blossoming over his body as he struggled to push them back.

Suddenly, the pressure was gone and he fell forward, collapsing on the cobbles. He heard the shouts of many men, the clash of metal and running footsteps. Suddenly, there was a hand on his shoulder and he was being turned. He stared up blearily.

"Lancelot...?"

The knight frowned and touched his forehead; it stung. "Yes, Merlin, it is I. Please, hold on."

"Sorry," he whispered, and let the world fall away.


	5. A King's Ransom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Camelot is burning. A Dragon's call, a Seer's voice and discord between lovers do battle in the fight for a kingdom – but can anyone truly emerge victorious?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sequel to [Fealty](http://demon-faith.livejournal.com/180768.html). Previous parts [here](http://demon-faith.livejournal.com/201316.html)

  
When he woke, Merlin was gone.

Arthur rose instantly and thought of returning for his armour, but he needed to find him. Where had the idiot gone? What reason could he possibly have-

The sorcerers.

Taking up his cap, he ran up the cellar steps, pushing open the door and practically running through the kitchen. He stopped for no one, diving from wall to pillar to doorway, struggling to leave the castle in both haste and secrecy.

Finally, he reached the outer wall and stood in the street, breathing hard. Which way now? How would he know where Merlin had gone?

"Arthur! Arthur, come here!"

The urgent whisper carried to his ears and he turned towards the sound. And there was Gwen, waiting in an alleyway and beckoning him forward. He ran to her and embraced her, checking her face for signs of harm. "It is good to see you, Guinevere. Have you-"

"He's in the tavern district. It's good that Lancelot's men found him when they did. I fetched Gaius for him this morning. He was reluctant, of course – I mean, not that he didn't want to help; it's just difficult to avoid being seen, and getting out is-"

Arthur struggled to keep up, as she led him through the alleys. "Lancelot? Lancelot is here?"

Gwen shot him a small smile. "Bad timing. By the time he arrived, it was all over. But he smuggled me out of the cells and we started organising men, and women, from 'The Lady'."

"Morgana's tavern," Arthur said, nodding, trying not to let his heart beat of his chest. So he'd been right. And Merlin, it seemed, had been wrong – and yet what a hollow victory it was.

"Is it...Gwen, is he...?"

She placed a hand on his shoulder. "He'll live, Arthur. He faced seven of them on his own – it's a miracle he's not dead."

He couldn't entertain the thought. They arrived at the tavern and Gwen led him up the backstairs and into a small private room. Lancelot stood up to greet him, but Arthur's eyes were fixed on the bed and the pale form resting there. Merlin's skin was marked by cuts and bruises and his head was bandaged; beneath the covers, Arthur could see his left arm and right leg were bulky with more bandaging and splints.

Gaius stood aside to let him pass. "I did warn him, Arthur. He has...never listened well."

"I should have listened," Arthur said thickly. "We should have...talked it through."

He sat carefully on the edge of the bed, hand reaching up to brush away a few strands of hair from his eyes. Merlin stirred, turning towards his touch, and Arthur let his hand rest against his lover's cheek, swallowing past the lump in his throat.

"I know," Merlin murmured. "I'm an idiot."

"Shh. Rest."

"'M sorry."

"So am I."

Those light blue eyes opened and met his, a smile twitching at his lips. "For being right?"

"It doesn't matter now," he said fiercely. Merlin smiled then, and closed his eyes, returning to sleep. Arthur watched him for a few moments more, before turning to the other people in the room. "It's good to see you – Gaius, Lancelot. I hear you've been doing good work."

Gaius looked away, as Lancelot shrugged helplessly. "Not good enough. The dog still lives, sire."

"Arthur," he corrected gently. "How many men are you?"

"Thirty, at last count. I am hoping to gather twenty more before the next assault – then we will match the garrison in number."

Arthur sighed. Not enough. "And to match the knights?"

Gwen smiled faintly. "We have you. And Merlin."

"Merlin won't be practising magic for some time," Gaius said slowly, and Arthur turned back to his lover, almost afraid to look at him in his weakness. He needed Merlin to be strong, now more than ever – he didn't know how to breathe without him.

Arthur cleared his throat. "Then we will need Morgana. She can create a distraction in the castle and we can make our move from the outside – a war on two fronts cannot be won. We will march on the south gate, where the defences are thinnest, and we must recruit more men. But first we must send the women and children away."

"Send them away?" Gwen frowned. "But why? The woman can fight too."

Arthur shook his head. "Men will not fight if there's a chance their families will be hurt. There are underground tunnels leading from the west of the city into the forests. Lancelot, you will lead the women and children there at dusk tomorrow."

Lancelot shook his head. "But then who will lead the march?"

"I will."

Three voices were instantly raised in protest. "Arthur, it's too dangerous." "The kingdom must have a prince, sire." "Merlin will never forgive me if I allow you to do this."

"I will lead them," Arthur said firmly. "Gaius, you must take a message to Morgana. We will march in two days, at midnight. She must have a distraction ready."

"Yes, sire," Gaius said, but his voice was filled with doubt. Arthur ignored him – they had to act quickly, before the other Northlands army arrived. He had only met Geraint once, but he knew him to be of sounder mind than his brother. With such a tactician at the heart of the operation, they would be doomed to failure. He could only hope that Caradoc was incapable of anticipating such their assault.

"What am I to do, Arthur?"

He met Gwen's eyes firmly. "You will go with the women-"

"I will fight with you."

Arthur closed his eyes. "I need you to take Merlin to safety."

Gwen looked at him incredulously. "He won't come with me. He'll never leave Camelot while you're in danger."

"Well, he's not going to have a choice, is he?" Arthur said, shortly, turning his back on them. "You have your orders."

He didn't want to do this, turning his friends into subordinates, into servants. However, the cost of negotiation within an army was spread in front of him, battered and bruised and...fragile. He wouldn't see anyone else hurt because he wasn't strong enough to lead.

Returning to his perch on the bed, he leaned in to kiss Merlin's forehead. It seemed that a victory in Camelot would have a terrible price and, right now, he wasn't sure he could pay.

~

_The shadows from the battlements were long, the sun licking at the edges of the arena. Everyone was shouting, but she could not hear the words._

In the centre stood a man she did not know, facing away from her, far away. He wore long black robes and held a wooden staff, light surrounding him. Surrounding them – who was that, kneeling on the ground? Who were these strangers in her kingdom?

And a shadow flew across the sun.

Morgana woke with a scream, grabbing at her bedclothes as she struggled to breathe. Why was she having visions of strangers? And what did the shadow mean?

Her door started to open and she pulled up her covers, but it was Gaius who stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. "My lady, I brought you a tincture for..." He trailed off, regarding her with concern. "Morgana?"

"I had...a dream."

Gaius crossed the room and sat on the chair beside her bed. "What kind of dream?"

She shook her head, struggling to hold onto the threads of the tale. "It was sunset, and there were...two strangers in the arena. And then something flew across the sun."

He frowned. "The sun? What manner of creature was it?"

Morgana frowned. "I didn't see it. Just the shadow. It was...large, with...serrated wings. And...a tail?"

Gaius' eyes filled with something unrecognisable and he lowered his voice. "Is it...possible that you saw the shadow of...a Dragon?"

Closing her eyes, she concentrated, trying to picture the shape again. "I don't know. It...could be. Gaius, what does it mean?"

He stood, gesturing with his hands. "It could mean...any number of things." Gaius turned back to her. "And of the...dreams you've had-"

"I've never been wrong," she said firmly. Gaius sighed.

"That's what I was afraid of," he admitted, setting down the tincture on the table. "I will need to tell...our friends. Though first-"

"There is a plan," she said, feeling a surge of excitement. She was finally going to be useful. "Tell me."

~

"A Dragon?"

Gaius nodded, a flash of concern in his eyes. "Indeed."

Merlin frowned and rubbed his forehead. He'd only been awake for half a day and he already felt exhausted. "We only know one Dragon, Gaius."

"And he is not flying anywhere."

"Do you think...he's meant to?"

They exchanged looks, neither wishing to put their thoughts into words. "It would be very dangerous," Gaius warned. Merlin shrugged.

"I'm immune to danger."

"No, you're not." Arthur stood in the doorway, arms folded. "What exactly are you planning now?"

Merlin looked to Gaius for support but he was already gathering his things. Coward. "I really must be heading back. Arthur."

The prince nodded to him as he fled, before returning his gaze to Merlin. "How are you feeling?"

"Better." He hesitated, before sighing softly. "Morgana had a dream about a flying Dragon."

Arthur came closer and Merlin shifted over carefully, lifting the covers. Arthur sat next to him and placed a gentle hand around his shoulders; they leaned together, absorbing the information.

"A flying Dragon?"

"Yes."

Arthur absently pressed his lips to Merlin's cheek, fingers drumming on the tip of his shoulder. "What does Gaius think?"

It would be convenient to blame Gaius for this idea, but Merlin knew he owed Arthur the truth. "I think we should free our Dragon."

"Merlin..." Arthur said warningly, but Merlin continued.

"He could help us! And I do trust him, Arthur – I know him."

"He told you to find the sorcerers." Merlin could hear that Arthur was struggling to keep his voice level; he sighed under his breath.

"Not in so many words," he tried, but Arthur snorted, breaking away from him to pace around the room.

"If my father discovered that I'd released the Dragon-"

"Your father isn't here," Merlin said hotly. "And he's the one who lost the kingdom!"

Arthur turned to him, eyes flashing. "He lost the kingdom because I wasn't here, Merlin!"

Silence.

"Are you...are you saying that you wish you hadn't left?"

Arthur looked away. "I'm not saying that."

Merlin slipped down the bed, pulling the covers over himself carefully. "I'm tired."

Another pause. "I'll leave you then."

"Yes."

The door shut. Merlin squeezed his eyes closed, trying not to think. Arthur regretted their little village in Garthmadrun, his baking and the vegetable garden and the people who respected them there.

Maybe he regretted Merlin as well.

He wiped his eyes hurriedly and buried his face in the pillow. What was the point of fighting then? This wasn't his kingdom anymore – it was Arthur's battle, and he wanted to do it all alone.

Let him then. See if Merlin cared, because Arthur surely didn't.

His head full of thoughts, Merlin shut his eyes, wishing he could be back in Ealdor, when life was simple.

When he didn't know Arthur, and what it was to love.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sequel to [Fealty](http://demon-faith.livejournal.com/180768.html). Previous parts [here](http://demon-faith.livejournal.com/201316.html)

  
He hadn't spoken to Merlin since their argument. Gwen told him that Merlin had refused to leave with Lancelot, and Arthur had nodded tersely and returned to considering his plans. Merlin would be safe enough in the tavern, he told himself.

Merlin would be safer back in his village with his mother. Or...in their village, with Margery and Emma and little Thomas. Surrounded by his medicines and patching the roof yet again, while some pretty little wife made him pies and washed his tunic without complaint.

Arthur felt a surge of jealousy at the picture, but pushed it away. He'd been able to forget he was a prince for a time but he had a duty – he owed his allegiance to Camelot. But Merlin...Merlin could be free. He owed him that much, at least.

The sun had set and the night was drawing on. He had retrieved his sword from their things beneath the castle and its weight was comforting at his side. A crowd was starting to gather outside the tavern, armed with swords, scythes and torches. Lancelot had done well – these were sober men, determined and strong. And they met his eyes with respect, with pride in their bearing. They wanted Camelot under Pendragon rule; he could trust these men.

He looked up, and there was Merlin. He was leaning on Gwen, staring out of the window and assessing the crowd. Then, their eyes met.

Slowly, Arthur unsheathed his sword and held it up, tipping it slightly towards the window. _My fealty is yours._

Merlin smiled and touched his lips before pressing his hand to the window. _Fare well, sire._

Arthur turned and raised his sword. "For Camelot!" he shouted.

_For Merlin_

~

Morgana crept through the corridors, torch in hand. It was not far to her target and she knew the nearest watch would be completely distracted – they might even call in the rest of the guard. She could only hope.

The castle felt oppressive in the dark and she was jumping at shadows; she fancied she could hear the roar of the Dragon beneath the stone, biding his time, waiting to fly free. Or perhaps she heard the voice of Arthur's army, marching on the castle to restore their kingdom. She had to hurry.

The stable roof was visible from the window in the quarters reserved for visiting dignitaries. She had asked a stable boy to loosen the bolt on the door – the horses would escape, causing even more disruption. She had left nothing to chance.

"Stop!"

Whirling round, she saw Caradoc in the doorway, flanked by two guards. "No."

With all her strength, she flung the torch from the window and watched it settle on the stable roof. The thatch caught in seconds, but there was already water being thrown – what was this? A small group of guards put out the blaze quickly, a thin wisp of smoke carrying to the window.

"Every man has his price," Caradoc said, grinning. "Now, shall we meet your friends at the gate?"

~

The street was full of people, singing as they marched. Arthur led them towards the south gate, wondering if Morgana had started her distraction yet. She would need to occupy half the garrison for them to have a fighting chance.

As they approached, something looked wrong. There were lit torches in the guardhouses and all along the ramparts – they were expected.

"Halt!" he shouted and the line took a few moments to stop, jostling him forward. Suddenly, flaming arrows rained down on their heads; some men ran for cover, whilst others beat out the flames or dropped to the ground. His force was decimated in an instant.

"Prince Arthur! Welcome home!"

Caradoc was stood above the gate. And he had Morgana.

"Fight him, Arthur!" she shouted, before being forced back by the guards. He looked up, taking in the row of archers on either side of the gate. They had been expected.

"Come quietly, Pendragon, and I'll let these men go. They can return to their homes and their families, and all I ask is your...surrender."

Arthur swallowed hard. If he fought Caradoc now, at least half of these men would die and a further quarter would be seriously wounded. There was no hope of victory here.

If he surrendered, Lancelot and Gwen were still free. And Merlin – Merlin would be safe.

"I...accept your terms," he said.

There were cries of 'sire!' and 'my lord!' behind him, but he turned to them. "Go home! There will be other battles, but you must live to see them."

There was hesitation, unease, but another volley of arrows sent them fleeing, his fledgling army running from their prince.

He was alone.

~

One of the rioters burst into the room and Gwen stood instantly, panicking. "Where's Arthur?"

Merlin was also on his feet, hand braced against the wall. "Simon?"

The man swallowed. "He...he surrendered. So that we could escape."

Gwen gasped and Merlin sat down hard. Arthur was imprisoned. What hope was there now?

"Gwen, we need to go to the castle," Merlin said, slowly, standing again and reaching for his walking sticks. He was swaying but he didn't seem to notice, and Gwen was torn.

"We can't...rescue him. We'll never-"

"We're not going to rescue him," Merlin said, his voice shaking. "Not yet. There's another prisoner we need to release."

His face was determined and Gwen knew there would be no dissuading him. She helped him with his cloak and supported him as he approached the door. Simon stood aside, shaking his head. "The prince...he wouldn't-"

"And what he doesn't know won't hurt him," Merlin said lightly, but there was a dark edge to his tone. Gwen pitied anyone that crossed them that night.

Once they were out of the tavern, Merlin led them towards the storage houses to the east of the castle. They were rarely patrolled and they slipped inside unseen. Merlin walked up to one of the walls and tapped it – it slid open to reveal a tunnel.

"Arthur told me about this passage," he said quietly. "It leads right into the armoury."

Gwen looked at Merlin and then at the tunnel. "You can't go in there, Merlin. You're in no condition-"

"I need to do this now," he said, gritting his teeth as he dropped the sticks and pulled himself into the tunnel. Gwen followed close behind, as the wall reclosed itself, leaving them in darkness. Light suddenly seemed to surround them and Gwen realised there was a glowing blue ball ahead of them, lighting their way through the tunnel.

With aching slowness, they edged forward, Merlin hissing and grunting with every movement. Gwen didn't know if they'd even make it to the castle – Merlin had barely walked across the room before now, and he looked exhausted. Still, there was a determined air about him and he wouldn't rest until they'd achieved their goal.

Not that Gwen was entirely sure what they were meant to be doing, but someone had to watch out for Merlin in this condition. If Arthur found out she'd let him do this, she was going to be eating gruel for a month.

After what seemed like two hours of crawling, they reached the end and Merlin, breathless and crying with pain, pressed his hand against the door. Gwen heard a lock click and then the wall swung open, letting in the sickly light from a fading torch.

"Gwen, you...go..."

She clambered over him and then reached up to help him down. With shaking legs, he stood, but she was carrying most of his weight. Slowly, they limped forward towards the door, but each step seemed like it was draining the very life from her friend.

"Perhaps we should rest."

"We need to keep going," he rasped. "It had to be done by morning – he's cocky now. Tomorrow...tomorrow, he'll think again."

"How do you-"

"That's...Arthur. He's the same."

They walked on in silence; the basement level was quiet and the few guards they saw were sent running by a gentle flick of Merlin's wrist and a few guttering torches.

Eventually, they arrived at an unfamiliar gate and Merlin motioned for her to light a torch. The steps seemed to go on forever, and it was another long and painful hour before they reached the bottom and the immense cavern that spread before them. Gwen had never been this far underground before – she wondered what was so important down here.

Merlin collapsed to the floor, leaning against the cavern wall. "Here," he murmured. "Come on."

A gust of wind whipped through the cavern and suddenly there was a massive Dragon before them! Gwen's jaw dropped as she took in the sight of the beast – his wings were huge, and his eyes held all eternity. She felt she should curtsey.

"Young warlock? You are injured."

"We need...we need to free you."

The Dragon looked like he was worried for Merlin, and that made Gwen stop for a moment. She knew Dragons were dangerous, but this one seemed attached to Merlin. Almost...kind.

"You would use your strength for this?"

"Arthur's been captured," Merlin said weakly. "You're our only hope."

The Dragon nodded. "If you are sure. Together, then?"

Merlin smiled. "Together." He held out a shaking hand and closed his eyes, as the Dragon tilted his head towards the chain that tethered him and roared out a stream of fire! From Merlin's hand, blue light surged forward and the lights merged together – Gwen shut her eyes and shielded her face, as something burst and, with a screech of delight, the Dragon was flying up and away, the chains falling deep into the chasm below.

"I will return, young one!"

Gwen turned to Merlin, but he was passed out on the floor. Carefully, she spread her cloak over him and waited for dawn to filter into the cavern.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sequel to [Fealty](http://demon-faith.livejournal.com/180768.html). Previous parts [here](http://demon-faith.livejournal.com/201316.html)

  
The castle was silent. Before, it had been pregnant with anticipation, awaiting the arrival of their crusading prince, their saviour. Now, he had arrived, and he was a prisoner.

Camelot had no hope.

Gwen pushed open the door to Gaius' rooms and Merlin shuffled inside, his head swimming with the effort of remaining vertical. Gaius hurried forward, shepherding him to his room and laying him flat; Merlin felt so helpless.

"You should not have done that, you know."

"I don't regret it," Merlin mumbled, sleepily. "Worth it. For Camelot." _For Arthur_

"You're damaged your leg further and your burns are not healing."

"They will heal." Merlin knew his body – he'd always healed quickly, had never stayed sick for long and always climbed back up the swaying trees long before his friends were allowed out of bed.

Gaius sighed and started fussing around him, changing bandages and arranging the bed linen to his satisfaction. "You have not...heard from Arthur?"

Merlin didn't remember telling Gaius about that. Still, he shook his head, which made the gentle spinning crescendo into a maypole dance of colour and movement. "Ow."

"You are not moving for at least two days."

He saw Gwen shake her head out of the corner of his eye. "But, Gaius, what about-"

"Later," the physician said sharply and Merlin sat up, despite his head, grabbing hold of the man's trailing sleeve.

"Tell me now," he said firmly. Gaius' face was neutral, but his eyes betrayed him, dancing with panic and fear and anger.

"Arthur...Arthur is due to fight one of Caradoc's knights at noon."

Merlin swung his legs over the side of the bed. "I need a hooded cloak and a stick."

"Merlin, you are in no condition-"

"He needs me."

Gaius pursed his lips and then glanced at the window. "You can rest for an hour at least."

Merlin sighed and got back into bed, but held out his hand. "I need my book."

Gaius hesitated, looking down at the floor. "Uther had it destroyed when you cast your spell over Arthur."

No book. How was he meant to practise magic without a book? Everything was lost.

"No, Gaius – I took it. He asked me to destroy it and I hid it away."

Gwen smiled and knelt on the floor beside his bed, forcing her hand between the frame and the mattress to pull out a sheaf of papers. She looked guilty as she handed them to Merlin, crossing the room to the other side of the bed. "I had to tear them out, because it was too big."

"That's all right," Merlin said, caressing the pages as if they were Arthur's hands. "This will be perfect.

~

Arthur was afraid.

The chain around his ankle didn't allow him to leave the arena, but he could defend himself. No, that wasn't what concerned him - any chance to destroy Caradoc's knights should be leapt at.

He was afraid for his people.

Without a leader, the tavern revolters could be picked off in minor skirmishes, and there would be no safeguard for their families. Caradoc's word was worth less than the breeze. Lancelot was hopefully far from Camelot but that would not save them in the end; no ruler suffered dissenters within his borders.

He was afraid for his family.

Looking up at the stand, he saw his father and Morgana, sitting impassively in the lower tier. They were closely guarded and the loyal people of Camelot were kept well away. There was no chance of escape. He had come home to save them and he had failed – his father was right about him.

He was afraid for Merlin.

The idiot had never been able to follow instructions, and he had shown no signs of leaving when Arthur had marched. That meant he was still in Camelot, and Caradoc had to know he was there. In his present condition, he was an easy target and an important enemy to eliminate. But Arthur knew Merlin wouldn't leave, couldn't leave Camelot while Arthur was in danger.

Because Arthur knew he could never leave Merlin.

The arena was full, but there was a tense silence that unnerved him. It was almost as if they expected him to lose. Arthur looked at all the faces in the crowd, nervous and desperate, no longer believing in his immortality. When they won Camelot, he would have to prove himself a thousand times over to regain his standing in their eyes.

Caradoc sat on the throne, smirking, before waving to a guard. On the surface, he seemed elated, but he was ill at ease, sitting on the edge of his seat. Perhaps the Dragon had been right about the Northlands.

The guard sounded the gong. "The criminal Arthur will face the Lord Rhyl. READY!"

Arthur shifted his sword into position, painfully aware of his lack of armour and mail. He was practically naked and about to face a trained knight. Still, he fancied his chances and had sparred with Morgana whenever she had visited during the months they'd been away. Though it had been almost half a year since his last tourney and perhaps his arm was not as steady as he believed. Maybe he wasn't ready at all.

And that's when he saw him.

Barely upright between Gwen and Gaius, his idiot lover was making a ridiculously obvious target of himself and looking as if he was going to kill someone with his bare hands. Arthur wasn't entirely sure it wasn't him.

The gong sounded again and Arthur dodged the first strike, struggling to concentrate. Why was he here? What mad Merlin plan had entered that pretty head? What could he possibly hope to achieve by being caught?

A sword blow to the shoulder and he cried out, knocking off the knight's helm as he staggered back. Now he had a target, though he also had an injury. Arthur shifted his sword to his other hand, circling the man with intent.

_Arthur. I want you to run._

The intrusion distracted him but he managed to dodge the knight's next swing, sword point coming up to slice open the man's cheek. Small victories.

_No. The king, Morgana. Get them out._

They locked swords and he struggled to hold him steady.

_I can get you all-_

_I'll distract them You can come back for me._

Arthur's sword slipped and he let the knight knock him to the ground. And then he played dead.

There were screams from the crowd, a great roar from Caradoc's men and the laughter of Lord Rhyl, assured of his victory.

He hoped Merlin had learned how to listen.

~

When Arthur fell to the ground, Merlin knew there was no backing out.

"Uther and Morgana," he whispered. "Not...not Arthur."

Merlin concentrated and the world around him slowed; he climbed the barrier, running despite his leg and reaching the lower tier in moments.

Now was the time for that new spell, and he only had one chance to get it right. Uther and Morgana were standing, frozen in rage and panic - Merlin reached up and grabbed for their arms, shouting the spell words as time sped up.

They both tumbled over the barrier, hitting the packed earth with force. All around them, there appeared to be a waterfall, muting the colours and sounds from beyond.

"Merlin!" Morgana exclaimed, grabbing his arm "Where are we?"

"We're not safe. We need to go." Merlin started walking.

"Not without my son."

Merlin stared up at Uther, his anger flaring. "You think I want to leave him? He said to get you out - I'm keeping my promise. Don't make me a liar, sire."

"But you are so adept at it."

Merlin was already moving towards the edge of the arena, dragging Morgana along with him. He didn't have time to turn Uther into a rat and he could feel his energy draining with every passing second.

He felt something touch his arm and suddenly Gaius was within the waterfall too. "This way, quickly. Arthur has started his attack."

"You..." Uther was pale, almost shaking. "You promised me you had...that you had stopped."

Merlin watched the two of them, staring at each other as if the world was ending in the space between them

"Desperate times," Gaius said softly, and Uther looked away.

They moved in silence then, through a muted blurred castle. Morgana was half-carrying him by the end, but they couldn't stop. Over and over, he thought on Gaius' words: Arthur has started his attack. What did it mean? Would he even be- No, he would not think like that.

Finally, they reached the tunnel beneath the castle. Morgana carefully passed Merlin over to Gaius and reluctantly came to stand at Uther's side; Merlin knew she wanted to stay and fight, but she would do as Arthur wished. For the moment.

"Gwen's waiting for you," Gaius said. "Merlin and Arthur's horses are tied up nearby."

"Go to the village," Merlin said quietly. "They know you there."

Morgana frowned."You're not coming?"

"Arthur needs me. I can't leave him."

Uther nodded curtly, ignoring Gaius completely as he set off down the tunnel.

"Be careful." Morgana hugged them both and followed Uther towards the light.

"What was-"

"I used my magic to find you. I broke my word to him."

They watched them until they were out of sight, the silence weighing heavy in the shadows. Small victories.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sequel to [Fealty](http://demon-faith.livejournal.com/180768.html). Previous parts [here](http://demon-faith.livejournal.com/201316.html)

  
It was of little surprise to him that he had failed to stick a sword in Caradoc, but it was always worth a shot. Especially to see the look on his face.

This day, meant to cement the invader's rule, had turned into a conclusive victory for Camelot. Instead of a dead prince and a mourning king, they were greeted by a hero and a monarch in exile, one who no doubt lived to fight another day.

Arthur could not stop smiling. And he'd been left alone for the rest of the day, which had allowed him time to dress the shallow wound on his shoulder. He hoped Gaius would visit him later and then he could find out about Merlin.

"I suppose you think you've won."

Looking up at his visitor, Arthur shrugged. "Does it really matter? It's what the people think that matters."

Caradoc snorted. "The people! Listen to you! That's why your kingdom is weak." He spat on the floor; Arthur smirked.

"My kingdom wasn't overthrown by my own ministers. How is dear Geraint?"

Arthur watched Caradoc pale, and silently thanked the Dragon for that little gem. It seemed the monster had been right about the Northlands – and that meant they were running out of time.

"You abandoned your kingdom," Caradoc said slowly, visibly shaking with rage. "And for what? To play house with your manservant! You don't deserve Camelot."

Arthur ignored the small voice in his head that applauded Caradoc's words; it sounded exactly like his father. Caradoc smiled.

"I'll admit, he is pretty. Quite a find, Arthur. I'll be sure to...take care of him."

He froze, willing himself to stay calm. Caradoc couldn't have captured Merlin. He had to be free. But the thought of Merlin, at the mercy of this man...

Arthur's jealousy flared but his face did not betray him. Silently, he fumed, wishing he could hear Merlin, touch him, take him to back to their village and tie him to the bed. He'd be safe there. He'd be Arthur's.

"Oh well. There'll be plenty of time for that later. Now, I need to make an example of you. And I know just the thing."

"Can't wait," Arthur muttered, rolling his eyes. Inside, he cheered – Caradoc didn't have Merlin. And that's all he cared about.

~

They had ridden for two days without stopping, only pausing at some strange tree structure for an hour's rest and the chance to eat the meagre supplies the serving girl had procured. Gwen, that was her name.

Morgana insisted she knew the way and they had followed the muddy track through the forest, eyes set on the mountains and a distant flock of birds that were heading north. When they eventually found their way into a sleepy village at dusk, Uther wondered how his son could possibly live in such a place.

The house was small – more like a shed than a dwelling, a quarter of the size of Arthur's rooms with a small vegetable garden at the front. Uther had not imagined the sorcerer could grow things.

"Who goes there?"

A small boy stood in front of the door, brandishing a stick. Uther placed a hand on his sword, but the boy squinted up at them before launching himself into Morgana's arms.

"Garna! You came back! Where's Merlin and Arfa?"

She settled the boy on her hip and carried him towards the house, while Gwen led the horses to one side of the building. A rudimentary stable, no doubt.

"Well, they're away for a while, so they asked us to look after their little house. Where's your mother?"

Uther looked around the house, wrinkling his nose. It was one large room, cheerfully untidy and poorly furnished. Morgana set down the boy and lit the few lamps, showing a shabby and ill-constructed house that must let in the rain and the snow and, clearly, unwanted guests.

"She's poorly. That's why I'm waiting for Merlin."

Morgana nodded seriously and approached one of the larger cupboards, opening it to reveal shelves of odd pots and jars; Uther recognised a few of them from Gaius' collection. "Does she have a fever?"

"Cow fever," the boy said solemnly, and Morgana took down a pot and handed it to him.

"Try this one and Merlin will see to her when he gets back. It won't be many days now."

She thought Merlin was going to return. Uther wasn't blind – the boy had been barely able to stand when he'd aided their escape, and all that magic had to do something to him.

The little boy took the jar gratefully and scampered out into the dark. Morgana frowned as she watched them go, and then opened another cupboard.

"Well, there's a pie at least. I'll take it to the oven in the morning. And half a loaf of bread – would you like some? The jam is rather good, you know."

Uther stared for a moment before sitting at the crude table, and accepting a glass of ale from her hand. "I forget that you have visited this place."

Morgana smiled. "It's not that bad. And Arthur can bake a good pie."

He choked. "Pie?"

With a smirk, Morgana plucked the pie from the shelf and showed it to him: the Pendragon crest.

"My son," Uther said slowly, "does not bake pies."

Gwen came in through the door and looked at the pie in Morgana's hands. "Oh good! One of Arthur's!" She saw Uther's face and blanched. "Not that there's anything wrong with Camelot pies, or any Camelot food. It's just...a really good pie."

The crown prince of Camelot baked pies. Now he really had heard it all.

"I am going to bed," he said and lay down, staring at the ceiling. This was Arthur's little retreat, his home with the sorcerer. He had expected...something different, something more like his rooms in Camelot. Something...royal.

Instead, he had found a village home, and signs of community. Arthur had forgotten who he was.

When finally he slept, he dreamt of Camelot and Arthur and pie.

~

"Caradoc has Arthur. You want me to stand by-"

"Hush."

They'd laid low for two days, at Gaius' insistence, but there had been no news from the castle. Merlin listened to the sounds of the crowd and hobbled down the stairs of the inn, stepping out into the street.

"Where's it coming from?" Merlin looked around, trying to find a source. He was too tired to use magic, having overstretched himself again in the escape from the arena.

"I think it might be the main square."

They started walking, a crowd gathering at the castle walls, and Merlin followed their gazes; his breath caught in his throat and he was struggling to breathe. Gripping Gaius' arm like a vice, he pointed up at the castle ramparts.

Arthur.

An iron cage was suspended from the ramparts, gently spinning in the breeze. And there was the prince, slumped against the bars, barely conscious. Blood dripped onto the stones below, and Merlin could see open wounds covering his lover's body. He'd been beaten and left in the sun.

"We have to get him down," he said desperately, but Gaius slowly shook his head; Merlin felt tears welling in his eyes, tears of frustration and grief. He was meant to protect Arthur! They were meant to stand together, through everything – that's what the Dragon had said! Two sides of a coin.

Merlin's hand went to his wrist, fingers tracing the woven scar across his skin. The brand was still as fresh as the first day, when they'd sat in Morgana's rooms, together, basking in their victory against Uther. That all seemed so...small, compared to this.

"You have to tend him," he heard himself saying. "Caradoc will listen if...you say it right. For another tourney. He needs to be able to...stand."

"Merlin-"

"Please, Gaius."

Staring into the sky, Merlin could not help blaming himself. He had left him – he should have dragged him out, promise or not, and then he wouldn't have to look at the sight. But Arthur needed to defend his kingdom, and that's why Merlin loved him. He would sacrifice everything to give them a few more days in the sun.

Merlin would not let his sacrifice be in vain.

"I will go to him," Gaius said, leaving his side.

"Thank you," Merlin muttered. _Hold on, Arthur._


	9. Chapter 9

  
Morgana and Gwen stood by the well, watching Uther talk with Old Mike. Both men were smoking pipes and surveying the village as if they owned it. Gwen laughed and together they drew up the water, carrying it back to Merlin and Arthur's house.

The village was strange without the boys. People kept coming up to them to ask how they were, and where was Gaius, and when would they all be in the village together. They didn't ask about Uther but Morgana volunteered that he was Arthur's father, a serious merchant from Camelot. The villagers nodded solemnly and generally gave him a wide berth, sensing his disdain from the other side of the settlement.

It didn't seem like almost a year since they'd been away, but the villagers remembered it well, telling stories of how they never thought the house would go up, how Arthur made the best pies for three villages and how Merlin tended their animals and their families at all hours, in all weathers. Everyone asked if they'd heard about the cattle raids along the border and whether Merlin knew of anything to stop it, if Arthur could join the men as they marched. They were loved here, respected, wanted. Morgana was beginning to wonder if they'd ever return to Camelot.

"I think he's actually listening to him," Gwen said, in awe, and Morgana smiled.

"Oh, Uther can listen, when he wants to. It just doesn't happen very often."

"But what could Old Mike possibly be telling him?"

Morgana shook her head and placed the bucket on the table, carefully refilling the washtub and refreshing the dishwater. Arthur would expect her to keep the place clean.

She knocked the bucket - _the jeers, the shouts – a sword to his head – alone, together – fire and flight and steel – the strength that flows – the march – the audience – the end - _ and water splashed her dress, soaking it through. Morgana shivered, clutching at the fragments of the visions, struggling to piece them together.

"My lady?"

Morgana looked at Gwen, eyes wide. "It happens today."

~

He couldn't sleep. He couldn't eat. He could only think of Arthur.

"Tell me."

Gaius frowned as he entered the room, obviously unhappy. "The bout begins at sunset."

"Caradoc and Arthur," Merlin said dully, struggling to sit up. Even after three days, the strength was refusing to return to his hands – he'd tried some light levitation, but he couldn't concentrate and his energy waned quickly.

Sitting across from him, Gaius nodded. "The prince barely knows who he is, let alone how to hold his sword. I'm afraid it will over in mere minutes."

"We can do it," Merlin insisted, though he was beginning to have doubts. The Dragon had said sword and magic could bring about victory, but what if its wielders weren't strong enough? What if, in trying to fix this on their own, they'd ruined any chance of victory together?

Merlin had greatly reduced his expectations. If he could get Arthur through this day alive, then he was calling a victory. Camelot could fend for herself – he only had eyes for Arthur.

"If Camelot falls," Gaius said softly, "there will be no safe place."

And Merlin knew that, he did, but he didn't have the energy to care. It was taking all his effort to keep his eyes open and worry about Arthur. His brave, self-sacrificing prat who didn't even know his own name right now.

At least Morgana and Gwen were safe. The village would take care of them, until Caradoc decided to wage war on Garthmadrun and anyone else he could target. The fragile peace of the world was about to come undone and Merlin could only watch from his bed.

"Merlin, what if he-"

"He won't." Because it was unthinkable. Because he was Arthur.

Because Merlin would die first.

~

Gwen approached Uther late in the day, bringing him a simple meal of bread and cheese as he sat on a chair outside the house. He was watching Thomas chase chickens through the village, before playing games with some of the other children, laughing and shouting in their freedom.

"Arthur didn't play as a child," he said absently and Gwen nodded, not sure what she was supposed to say. Uther took the plate from her and smiled a little. "Thank you, Guinevere."

"Sire," she said softly, not wishing to interrupt his thoughts. Uther sighed.

"I can see why he would want this. A simple life. No obligations, no expectations."

Gwen looked out and saw differently. Every hut had Merlin's jars stacked outside, and they were building a new oven, this one closer to Arthur's watchful eyes. The children were playing in front of Merlin and Arthur's house, when they had the run of the whole village. They were part of this place.

"I think...there are different expectations here," she said slowly. Uther turned to her, frowning. "I mean, you're right, sire, of course. I didn't mean to- I'll go now."

"Yes." Uther turned to watch the children again. "The elders respect them here. That man, he said I should be...proud."

Gwen stayed silent, watching Uther watch the village. His son's home.

"I was proud of his swordsmanship, the way Camelot's knights fight for him. His manners at the table, the strength of his convictions. I did not think of...this."

She wasn't sure he even knew what "this" was, wasn't sure she knew herself, but she nodded anyway. "There are many things that make a man." He looked up at her. "Sire."

A shadow crossed his face and Uther sighed under his breath. "I hope those things are enough."

~

Caradoc had dug out his spare armour. How thoughtful.

With aching slowness, Arthur fitted the pieces over the bandages, tying them as tightly as the pain would allow. He had only taken half of Gaius' tincture, determined to keep a clear head. The salient details of his life were beginning to return to him and he would need all his physical and mental agility to defeat a knight in his prime.

Arthur could hear the crowd. They were shouting, screaming, filled with passion for blood. They wanted Caradoc's head. And, with a small smile, he realised that it was his doing. Caradoc had let his power go to his head – he had paraded his victory over Arthur for all to see.

He hadn't counted on the people actually liking their prince.

Their voices roused him and, taking up his sword, Arthur marched out into the arena. Foreign knights formed an honour guard as he strode towards the centre, a grudging respect in their eyes. He had earned something from them, and that gave him power.

Helm in hand, he stood at the centre, waiting. The crowd died down as the trumpets blasted, and Caradoc emerged. His armour was shining, carefully polished to perfection, designed to intimidate and remind Arthur who was superior. The heir to the Pendragon throne could never feel threatened by wealth.

"Are you ready to die?" Caradoc yelled, raising a roar from the crowd. Arthur merely smiled and pulled on his helm. He remembered competing against the idiot at their first meeting, dragging Merlin out to catch that stupid stag. A foolish errand that had almost ended everything – this time, he wouldn't let Caradoc trick him. This time, he was ready.

And he had the love of a good man. He had Merlin.

Distantly, a gong sounded, and Caradoc charged. Arthur dodged, but he was too slow and Caradoc's shoulder caught him, knocking him to the side. He recovered quickly, bringing up his sword to defend against Caradoc's swipe. Arthur saw that he'd angered him with his silence; he could use that tempestuousness to his advantage.

Pulling back his sword, apparently leaving himself open, Arthur invited him in and Caradoc took the bait. Slamming his shield into the man's chest, Arthur forced him back, but without his full strength, the blow barely winded Caradoc.

They danced around each other, probing strikes knocked back by blade and shield, the crowd's collective voice rising to meet the encroaching darkness. The sun was fading fast, the last vestiges of warmth lapping at the edge of the arena.

Caradoc surged forward once more and Arthur couldn't react quickly enough; something struck his head and he fell to his knees, helm bouncing on the ground. Reflexively, he ducked and rolled, coming up and holding his sword in front of him, unable to discern which of the hundred Caradocs was the real target.

Stumbling backwards, he defended on instinct, trying to stay on his feet as his shield was stolen from his arm. The sword struck his damaged shoulder, another blow targeted his knee, and he was on the ground again, staring up into Caradoc's thousand smirking faces.

_Hold on_

"And now we end it." Caradoc raised his sword.

And a shadow flew across the sun.


	10. Chapter 10

  
Merlin had insisted on being at the arena.

Dressed in the innkeeper's old travelling cloak and leaning on a branch for support, he'd slowly made his way to a seat in the first row, determined to see everything. He didn't know what he could do for Arthur, but it was important that he be there.

Arthur was losing.

He couldn't move fast enough, couldn't land a blow – and when he did, it wasn't enough. Caradoc had severely weakened him with torture, because he knew that was the only way to defeat him.

When Caradoc knocked off Arthur's helm, Merlin moved.

His magic was still weak and he'd need every scrap, so he ran under a cloud of dust – simple, elemental magic. His broken leg screamed at him but he held on, ignoring the jeers from the crowd and the knights starting towards the strange sight. He could get there. He could defend Arthur.

His prince was on his knees. Caradoc's sword was above his head. Merlin planted his staff between them and reached up, left hand pushing against the blade. "Enough!"

All his fear, all his anger, all his love for Arthur welled up in him like a storm from the sea – light streamed around them, as Caradoc flew backwards and landed in the dirt, helmet rolling away like a toy. Merlin felt Arthur clutch at his robes and he reached behind him, taking his prince's hand.

"You can do this," he whispered. "I have faith in you."

But Arthur was looking above his head, mouth agape. "Merlin...the shadow..."

Merlin looked up.

A giant eagle swooped over them and plucked one of Caradoc's knights out of the arena, carrying him away. And then another followed the first, and another, until ten eagles were tearing into Caradoc's men. Merlin had never seen anything like them – magnificent creatures, four times the size of a horse and intelligence in their eyes.

And the Dragon followed after.

Without thought, Merlin hauled Arthur to his feet, touching his face with a bandaged hand. "It has to be you. You have to show him, show them all who you are." He wanted so much to kiss him, to tell him how sorry he was and how he wished he could make it right with magic, how he was so ashamed of his weakness.

Arthur nodded and picked up his shield, his eyes shimmering in the fading light. They said: I know. I forgive you. I love you. "He was...right, you know. About magic and metal. About...us."

Merlin didn't have time to answer before Arthur was already striding towards Caradoc, swinging his sword as if he had already won. "Will you not face me, worm?"

Caradoc was watching the slaughter of his men in horror, but he hefted his sword in his hand. "You will pay for this, Pendragon. I will see you die." He charged towards Arthur; Merlin closed his eyes and concentrated.

_My strength is your strength. My heart is your heart._

He opened his eyes to blue, flowing from his fingers towards Arthur, giving him everything he had. He could make Arthur strong again; he could give him what he needed to defeat Caradoc.

Sinking to his knees, he watched his Arthur move like lightening, the eagles wreaking destruction on the invaders, and the Dragon aim fire at Caradoc's flag upon the ramparts.

Camelot was burning. And it was beautiful.

~

Magic had returned to Camelot, and it was fighting on the side of the king.

Arthur tried to shut out the chaos around him, eyes focussed on Caradoc. A new warmth invigorated his limbs, driving back the pain and the fatigue; he could be in the village right now, just woken from sleep, receiving a kiss from his lover and ready for the day.

He moved like quicksilver, slicing Caradoc's wrist as he twisted away, knocking the sword aside with his shield. His body remembered the lessons of his youth, the days in the sun, committing every slight variation to memory.

Striking Caradoc's thigh, Arthur forced a cry from his opponent's lips, and he smiled. "You should not have come here."

Caradoc roared, meeting Arthur in a flurry of blows that should have exhausted them both, but Arthur remained standing, feeling as if the sun was just dawning, as if he another ten or twenty fights in his arm.

His sword caught his eye, the blue sheen causing it to glow, and he glanced back. Merlin was collapsed in a pile of robes, hand outstretched, thin threads of light connecting them. Their strength. Their heart. Their victory.

Arthur turned back and ducked Caradoc's blow, meeting him with strength. "This is for my father." He carved a line in Caradoc's cheek, earning a scream.

"This is for Camelot." A savage slice to Caradoc's sword arm, and the metal fell from his lifeless fingers. Arthur held out his sword, breathing hard.

"And this...this is for Merlin." With all his might, he swung the sword and it connected with Caradoc's neck, cleaving his head from his shoulders. And it was done, the triumph of magic and metal: a united Camelot.

The crowd cheered, unafraid of the monsters in the sky, all eyes on their prince. Arthur saluted them with his sword and started towards his sorcerer, but the blue lights faded and he stumbled, sinking to the ground. Merlin lay prone on the earth, unmoving, and Arthur couldn't summon the energy to reach him.

At what price victory?

~

The Eagles had the situation well in hand. There was another matter to attend to.

He glided over Camelot, drawing the eye of the city denizens and revelling in their shocked gasps. It was good to fly again.

And there they were, standing in the street, idly setting fires and laughing amongst themselves. He landed on a nearby roof and they looked up, a mixture of awe and fear on their faces. Good.

"You are a disgrace," the Dragon said coldly. The woman called Nerys sneered.

"And who are you to judge us? You eat people, monster!"

He spread his wings wide and watched them step back as one, some preparing themselves for battle. "The young Pendragon will unite Albion, and the boy Emrys will stand at his side. You know well this Destiny and still you would harm them. I will not allow you to live."

Nerys laughed. "And what are you-"

In a rush of flames, they were consumed. The Dragon took flight, soaring towards the arena, his mind at ease. They were unworthy to carry the name sorcerer.

Landing in the centre of the arena, the Dragon gazed mournfully at his two fallen charges and gently spread his wings over them. "Do not fear, young ones. Camelot is won. Rest now."


	11. Chapter 11

  
Arthur met them at the gate.

The trumpets sounded and his father, dressed in his ceremonial robes, rode his warhorse towards Camelot, flanked by Arthur's knights. Morgana and Gwen followed behind, dressed richly and garlanded with fresh flowers.

Arthur saluted his father and then took his place beside him, ready for the triumphal entry into Camelot. Leaning close, he could have sworn the man was almost smiling.

"Welcome home, Father."

"Old Mike and, uh, Thomas send their regards."

Arthur managed to keep his seat, hoping he didn't look as stunned as he felt. "You made it to Garthmadrun then."

A rare smile graced the king's face. "Yes. And I am...proud of you." He paused. "The pie was also excellent."

This day had officially entered the books as one of the most bizarre of his life. Arthur merely nodded, accepted his father's hand on his shoulder, and rode on. The crowds lined the streets, waving homemade flags and throwing flowers. He could be back in the arena again, coming round under the shade of a leather canopy and hearing the people sing.

They crossed the town in a slow procession, passing the scorched earth where the sorcerers had met their end and the merry calls from 'The Lady', reunited families cheering their royalty. At the castle keep, Lancelot was waiting on a horse, trying to conceal his nervousness.

"I present Sir Lancelot, a vital ally in the resistance," Arthur said, waiting on his father to make the first move. The king nodded his head to Lancelot and that was enough: he had accepted Arthur's decision. Lancelot was a knight of Camelot.

Within the castle courtyard, the ceremony diminished. Once the gatekeeper had formally presented the keys to the castle, the parade was over and Arthur could crawl back into bed.

"Arthur?"

"Morgana." He smiled down at her, grateful for her outstretched hand and watchful eye. He dismounted gingerly, ignoring the wave of dizziness that hit as he stood upright. With a subtle touch, Morgana guided him through the sea of courtiers and towards his chambers.

Three days of rest had strengthened him, but waiting for his father in the sun had taken a toll and he was ready to lie down again. He remembered this weakness all too well from the stabbing and his strategy to remove Merlin from the cells, and knew that if he gave in now, he would return to his sword that much quicker.

"How is...everyone?"

Morgana smiled. "Missing you."

"Missing Merlin," he corrected and she laughed.

"Mostly Merlin," she teased. "And the pie."

"Oh, naturally."

Pushing open the chamber door, Arthur stepped across the threshold of his rooms and saw Merlin and Gaius staring out of the window, watching intently. "How come he's allowed out of bed?"

Merlin rolled his eyes, starting towards the bed with the aid of his staff. Gaius sighed. "I assure you, Arthur, that he is not. He...wandered."

"I wanted to see the parade. I never miss an opportunity to mock you."

Arthur snorted and removed his formal clothes. "I'll have you know that the Lady Morgana picked this jacket."

Merlin held up his free hand in surrender. "I give in! I'm outnumbered!"

Gaius took the staff from Merlin's hand and helped him into the bed, as Morgana did the same for Arthur. Merlin brushed a few stray hairs from Arthur's forehead. "You look awful."

"Such compliments! What kind of servant are you?"

Merlin grinned. "Arthur, I was such a terrible servant that your father exiled me."

"Point taken." Arthur shifted, wincing as his shoulder spasmed. Another week of rest, at least.

"And now you're staying here for a month," Gaius said sternly. Arthur started to complain but Merlin nudged him.

"Could be worse. We could be in different rooms."

Eyes lighting up, Arthur grinned wickedly. "I'm listening."

Gaius managed to look imposing, even with the blush on his cheeks. "Try anything and you will be in separate kingdoms."

Merlin laughed; Arthur had missed that sound. Gwen slipped through the doorway and came to perch on the end of the bed, lifting up the staff from where Gaius had rested it against the bedpost. "What's this?"

"Merlin made it," Gaius said proudly. Merlin sighed.

"It was...made through me," he said, waving his good hand. "When I helped Arthur."

"When he almost died," Arthur added, shooting him a stern look of his own. Merlin captured Arthur's hand and held it to his chest, ignoring the look completely.

"It's beautiful," Morgana said, tracing the blue crystal orb; it glowed under her fingers, throbbing with raw power. It looked just like the light Merlin had used to guide him home on his quest for the Morteus flower.

Merlin grinned and three red butterflies emerged from the tip, fluttering around Morgana's head before flying out through the door. Arthur elbowed him in the side.

"You're meant to be resting."

"You are both meant to be resting. And we will leave you to do just that."

Gaius ushered Gwen towards the door, as Morgana set a jam jar on the table. "From Margery."

Arthur smiled – there was nothing better than Margery's jam. Except, perhaps, prolonged bed rest with Merlin. When the door was finally closed, he turned to his lover.

"Alone, at last!" Arthur frowned. "Merlin?"

A light snore escaped from Merlin's lips and Arthur sighed, leaning in to kiss his parted lips. "Tomorrow then," he whispered, laying back and closing his eyes.

~

"And the damage, physician?"

Uther drank from his goblet, as Gaius sat across from him, taking the liberty as they were alone.

"Prince Arthur sustained a severe shoulder wound, along with several cuts and bruises. He also sustained repeated blows to the head." Gaius smiled. "Yet, as he possesses the legendary Pendragon skull, I am confident he will make a full recovery."

Setting down the wine, Uther smiled, relaxing against the arm of his chair. "What shall I do with them, Gaius?"

Gaius tilted his head curiously. "Are you asking the court physician, or an old friend?"

"When are the two not present? Speak your mind." Uther poured him some wine and pushed the goblet towards him; they had not shared a moment like this for some years. He had never seen Uther so at ease in himself.

"I believe they should return as full subjects."

"A Royal Pardon?" Uther said thoughtfully, taking up his goblet and draining it. "Perhaps."

"Sire..." Gaius hesitated. "If Camelot is to remain strong, it will require both magic and metal."

"You would have me change the law." For once, his voice was calm, considering, and Gaius wondered what had transpired in the village.

"I would have you make exceptions, sire."

Another smile. "A list of one?"

Gaius looked away. "Or two."

The ease in the air evaporated, and he knew he had stepped too far. It had been better left forgotten but he had been unable to resist this inviting atmosphere, the return of his old friend.

"You gave me your word." Uther sounded tired, world-weary once more, and Gaius cursed himself. Could he not have allowed the man a moment of reprieve?

"I could not watch you die. Any of you."

"I understand, but I did not think you capable. Arthur has always been impulsive, perhaps reckless, but you – Gaius, you have never deceived me."

It seemed that the truth would not be kept out. "I knew he was a sorcerer. The moment I saw him, I knew."

Uther closed his eyes. "Yet you said nothing."

"He is my sister's son. And he is...a good boy. He will be a good man."

The silence weighed heavy in the air. "Am I such a tyrant?" he murmured. "I only wished to keep them safe, my people and my son. After Igraine..."

Gaius cautiously placed a hand on Uther's arm, allowing it to settle there. "There are kings who I would call tyrant, and you have never been one of them. And...there are sorcerers I would call evil-"

"But the boy is not among them." Uther met his eyes. "And neither are you."

"No, sire," Gaius said with a faint smile. Uther returned it.

"I will think on it."

Gaius stood, letting his hand slide away as he bowed. "That is all I ask of you, sire."

~

The Council Room seemed a strange place for this meeting, but then there were plenty of chairs and that was all that mattered to him right now. Exhausted from the journey downstairs, Merlin sat heavily in the chair to Arthur's right, ignoring the concerned looks he was shooting him.

"I'm all right," he mumbled and Arthur squeezed his hand briefly, before returning his attention to Uther. Morgana and Gaius were already sat opposite them, and Gwen stood in attendance by the window.

"I called you here to discuss the appointment of a new Royal Custodian."

Arthur frowned. "Father, we haven't had a Royal Custodian since-"

"Since you were a boy, yes. However, the threats that you face – they are beyond even your skills to face...alone." Uther locked eyes with Gaius for a moment, before looking away. "Not by metal, but with..."

He trailed off, looking distinctly uncomfortable, and Merlin's mind clicked. "Oh..."

Arthur gave him a quizzical look, as Uther held out a roll of parchment to him. Merlin stood, leaning heavily on a borrowed walking stick and taking the proffered parchment. He was unsure whether he should open it, but Arthur had no such qualms and was already breaking the seal.

"By Royal Appointment, Merlin, son of Hunith, is ordered to the post of Royal Custodian, protector of the...Crown Prince and the kingdom of Camelot." Arthur looked up at his father, awe in his eyes, but Uther's gaze was fixed on Merlin, silently measuring and weighing his decision.

"Thank you, sire," Merlin said, swallowing around the lump in his throat. "It will be an honour to...continue protecting your son."

Arthur affected a hurt look, but Merlin could see the pride behind his eyes. "You make me sound like a maiden, Merlin."

Uther's face broke into a smile, stunning the room, and he considered a moment, before holding out his hand to Merlin. "I trust you will both make me proud."

After the strange ritual was complete, Uther dismissed them with another flash of a smile and Merlin, head swimming with joy, turned back a moment. "Sire, about...the Dragon-"

"Ah, yes." Uther sat back in his chair. "I do not believe we have the time to be chasing Dragons, do we?"

Merlin grinned. "No, sire."

Supported by Arthur, surrounded by friends, Merlin left the Council Room a free man, and an honest one. This was the closest thing he'd have to Uther's blessing, that unspoken agreement that Arthur was now his to protect, to serve, to...love.

"I do love you," he said suddenly and Arthur turned, smiling.

"I don't think we're about to die, Merlin."

Laughing, Merlin elbowed him and, together, they returned to their rooms.


	12. Epilogue

  
"I didn't expect to feel at home there."

Arthur picked up another chicken leg, before throwing one to his left. "Was it because it was different? Or was it because no one cared what I wore, what I said, what I did?"

"I do not believe that to be true."

Sighing, Arthur leaned back on his arms. "Maybe. I didn't think I'd miss it either."

"Destiny cannot be delayed forever."

Arthur snorted. "You would say that." He paused. "I didn't want to destroy Geraint. There were...children there."

"He...chose for them, when he would not surrender, would not allow you to take his people within Camelot's walls. It was not your order, and it is not your blame."

Smiling, Arthur looked up at his companion. "You have an answer for everything, don't you?"

"Indeed, young Pendragon." The Dragon ruffled his wings and glanced up at the sky. "Soon, it will rain."

"Having fun?"

Arthur looked round to see Merlin standing behind him, grinning. "It's not polite to sneak up on people, Merlin."

"There was no sneaking." Merlin flopped down on the blanket and tore off a hunk of bread. "Dragon."

"A pleasure, young warlock. We were discussing your village."

"I miss it," Merlin said quietly. Arthur laid a hand over his, and Merlin smiled at him.

"All things must end," the Dragon intoned.

"Except Destiny, apparently." Arthur lay back on the blanket, hands resting behind his head. "What's next anyway?"

"The waters of Destiny may not easily be traversed."

"You don't know, do you?" Arthur said, pointing a finger at the Dragon. "Some prophet you are!"

"Arthur, you might want to think twice before taunting the magical creature."

"I taunt you all the time."

Merlin rolled his eyes. "I don't breathe fire, Arthur."

"No, but Morgana does." Arthur smirked at his own joke, stretching out his shoulder carefully. It was still a little stiff in the mornings and he was still not training at his peak.

"I will leave you in peace, young ones. Fare well."

"Good hunting, Dragon," Arthur said, nodding to him with a respect he never thought he'd feel. Merlin merely waved, as the creature took to the air and quickly disappeared over the trees.

"The Dragon likes you, the king likes me – I think the world is upside down." Merlin tucked himself into Arthur's side, resting his head on his good shoulder. Arthur placed an arm around him and shut his eyes.

"I could just fall asleep right now."

There was a huff of breath on his ear and Merlin placed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. "There are better things."

Arthur opened one eye, a smile playing on his lips. "Mmm?"

Merlin grinned. "It's a beautiful day, no one around-"

It started to rain, soaking them in seconds. Arthur growled and grabbed hold of Merlin's hand, running for cover. "Why is that creature always right?"

Suddenly, Merlin pushed him back against a tree, eyes sparkling with mischief and gold. "Merlin? What are you doing?"

"Protecting you," he said, and kissed him.


End file.
